It Started Out Limp
by slashysecrets
Summary: When Severus Snape Apparated into the room where he was to meet with his fellow Death Eaters, he found something completely unexpected. SSHG Warning: inexplicit non-con in first chapter
1. Limp

Before you go any further: Be aware that I am primarily a slash writer, and there might be a peripheral slash relationship ahead in the future. No worries, Snape is straight. ALSO. There is non-con in this chapter. If that squicks you a lot, don't read it. I tried not to make it too graphic, and hope I approached it right. Do tell if I didn't.

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Severus lowered his mask over his face and set off, knowing that his meeting with Dumbledore had made him run a bit late. It wouldn't matter much, not tonight, but he could not make a habit of it. Voldemort wouldn't be present for his followers' extracurricular activities tonight, as far as he knew at least. But a spy always had to be prepared for surprises, not that the doddering old fool he was apparently loyal to cared. 

The revel was in full swing when he arrived at the set meeting place. He knew it because the small room where they normally secreted themselves was empty. Sighing, he pulled out his wand and executed a small tracing spell, hoping that in the excitement someone would have forgotten to mask his magical signature while Apparating. Luckily, MacNair, as usual, had left last. He was rather slow, and took a bit to work up the energy for Apparition—and inevitable forgot that it was traceable. The idiot.

Tracing an Apparition trail was risky if you didn't know where you were going. You ran the risk of landing right on top of someone, or in the middle of a wall—both could be painful, if not handled immediately. Death Eaters were not known for handling their comrade's injuries quickly if at all, but Severus was pretty confident in his ability not to hurt himself. He'd been doing this so long now that he had lost that single moment of incoherency that occurred right after Apparating, when most mistakes were made.

So he followed MacNair's trail, fairly confident of his ability to show up without embarrassing himself. He was expecting to show up on the sidelines of whatever horrible deeds were being done that night, so that he could surreptitiously join in when the chance arose. At worst, he thought, someone would be watching when he appeared, and he would get some subtle mocking for his tardiness.

He Apparated.

He was on top of someone.

A female someone.

_What the fuck!?_

Quickly he took inventory of the situation. He was in a dark room somewhere, with the only light coming from a single window. He had tripped over a rather small pair of legs as soon as he materialized, landing directly in between them in a rather compromising position. His colleagues had all seen, and were laughing raucously. There was a pair of large brown eyes trained on him. He was too close to make out the rest of her features. Soft breasts were pressed to his chest, and when he braced his hands on the ground to push himself up, he realized there were no clothes on the girl.

Great. He'd landed right in the middle of a gang rape. There was nothing for it, either. He was going to have to join in.

He normally amused himself elsewhere while the more callous (or more horny) Death Eaters did things like this. At worst, he sometimes stood on the sidelines and refused to disrobe. Everyone thought he was a prude, or ashamed of his rather sallow and greasy body, but that was fine. Severus wasn't in this racket to make friends.

He stood and surveyed today's prize. He deliberately didn't meet her eyes or look at her face as he stood. There was denim pushed down to her ankles, where the jeans had caught on the shoes that her attackers were too busy to take off. Her underwear was still in place, though slightly torn. She had been fighting back, then.

The fighting had resulted in the rapidly forming bruises on her torso. Her shirt hadn't been taken off, but instead cursed into pieces with a well-controlled slashing charm. Probably Dolohov's work, he'd always been partial to showing off to his victims before destroying them. He'd rather fuck her if she were terrified of him—a pity, in Severus' opinion. He personally thought he'd rather convince the girl to do it willingly. There was more long-term mental damage that way, if you were into that sort of thing, and it also made for a nicer experience for him. Then again, perhaps there was something appealing in forcing yourself on someone with brute force. He'd never done it, after all, so he wouldn't know.

Her bra was no longer in place. It hadn't been touched by the slashing curse, but instead ripped from her with someone's bare hands. She had the half-formed look of a teenager, though her curvy hips suggested that she was just a late bloomer in this respect.

Then his eyes finally reached her face and he let out a strangled cry.

"Like what you see?" one of his fellows asked tauntingly. He was relieved. Malfoy mustn't be here tonight, because otherwise someone would have recognized the girl by now.

It was Granger. A student. A student who was about to get gang raped, and knew enough about Severus to get his spying discovered, not to mention a valuable connection to Potter. _Well shit._

Thinking quickly, he said in a low voice, "Like it? I more than like it." He was glad they hadn't been able to see his eyes up to this point. But he steeled himself and turned to face them, praying he was portraying the right look of hunger. "This one's mine, men. Go find your own."

He turned away from them, making a shooing motion.

"Oh, is it now?" This was MacNair. He sounded as if he were whining, just a little.

"Unless you'd like me to inform our Lord of how easy your Apparitions are to trace—yes." Severus didn't even bother turning to look at him. He was watching Granger. She seemed to have recognized him even though he was wearing full Death Eater regalia, complete with the mask that should have hidden his identity. She always had been too bloody smart. It was probably that brilliance that had gotten her in this position in the first place.

"Come now," said a seemingly magnanimous voice, "I did all the work—you won't even have to undress her. Surely you can share."

"No!" Severus growled loudly. Perhaps a bit too loudly, but they would put that down as him defending what he'd decided was his property, rather than actually defending the girl.

"Let us watch then. Once you're done with her, perhaps you won't be so selfish anymore." Severus didn't recognize this voice, but it was young, and too smooth for him to trust. This was the best compromise he would get, though, unless he wanted to openly oppose anyone, so he took it.

"We'll see," he tossed sharply over his shoulder before he began unbuttoning his robes. He threw that to the ground and untucked his button down shirt, unbuckled his belt, and kicked off his shoes. His trousers had to come off completely—the horror of it was rather overwhelming, as he hadn't been undressed in front of other men since Hogwarts—his own schooldays. Once he had disrobed enough to extricate his unfortunately limp penis, he looked over his shoulder to see a rather intimidating bunch of white masks, all looking straight at him.

He closed his eyes and tried to remember something that would make him less, well… limp. After all, this wouldn't work very well if he were… limp. Didn't naked women do it for most people? It had worked for him at one point, he was sure. After all, there had been that thing with Lily… oh, but now he just thought, _Boy-Who-Lived's mum_, and there went the beginnings of his… not-limpness._Bugger_.

He surveyed the girl before him. She was trembling, and pleading with him with her eyes. Suddenly he had a vision of her first day in his class, straining her arm in her eagerness to answer questions. ??????

That did it. No more limpness. Well, that was rather surprising. He hadn't been aware of his propensity for naked schoolgirls. He shrugged mentally. He had a job to do here, and at least it didn't seem so distasteful now. For him, at least.

Granger was shivering. Miss Granger? That was what he had always called her, and in the current situation, he felt she deserved some respect. Miss Granger it was.

He brought himself down to the floor, so that he was lying atop her in the same position that he had fallen into earlier. "I assure you, I like this little more than you do, Miss Granger," he whispered in her ear so that no one else would hear. "Resist me as you have everyone else, otherwise suspicions will be raised."

She nodded quickly.

He wanted to say something else, anything, before he began the atrocity he was about to commit. But there was nothing left to say, and besides, he was going raise suspicions if he didn't do it soon.

So he plunged in. Well. He missed once, and muttered a quick 'sorry' for jabbing her in the leg. Then he did it again, correctly this time. At first she lay passively, and he continued to… do what he was doing… without response. He could hear sniggering behind him, and hoped it wasn't because he was doing something wrong.

She_still_ was just lying there. It was really awkward.

"Resist, damn you!" he snapped in her ear. Honestly, how hard could it be to resist a rapist? She did everything _else_ correctly.

She gave a half-decent flail in response. He nodded, then hoped that the other motions he was making would hide that jerky, half-formal gesture. He supposed they must, it seemed this action required a lot of movement. More effort than he'd given when he'd imagined doing it in his teens, certainly.

"Keep on," he urged when she fell still again. This time she responded properly, with lots of movement of limbs, and some sort of utterances that could have been protests.

They kept like that forever. He thrust in and out rhythmically, dutifully, and tried to make it look like he was enjoying this. She flailed a little, and he found that the movement helped. She watched him carefully, closely, and he refused to meet her eyes. She made incoherent noises that sounded like they could have been 'stop', or 'no', or 'please', and he grunted occasionally, more out of boredom than anything else.

He finally came, and felt a sigh of relief flow through both of them. Then he set his jaw and stood.

"Will you be sharing now, then?" It was the same smooth voice that had suggested he have her first.

"No!" Severus said fiercely, and perhaps a bit too loudly. "This one is mine. Go find your own fun."

Before anyone else could say anything, he dragged Granger—Miss Granger—up by her arm.

"Oh, come now—" someone started out, but he cut them off.

"She's mine." And then he fled, hoping that the girl wouldn't be new to Side-Along Apparition.

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This was a Christmas gift for rickmanlover24601. But I'm lazy and also had no plan when I started, so it kind of spiraled out of control. There are five more chapters already written, and a lot more to come. I'll probably update about every two weeks... because I don't want to run out of things to post! 


	2. Getting Settled

AN: Chapter two is here, finally. I have through six written-- will be posting gradually. Enjoy!

She was staring at him. He stared back, then remembered. Right. The mask. He took it off.

She was still staring. She was mostly naked and shivering—the dungeons not being the warmest places in the castle to begin with, and his rooms being most definitely the coolest. The bruises on her torso were getting more obvious now, and he thought that perhaps she should see Madam Pomfrey, but then how would he explain this?

She kept staring. It rather infuriated him that she was silent, that she hadn't said a single word, or seemed one bit surprised. She wasn't even fazed by the sudden Apparition.

"Miss Granger, either you have become mentally deficient or you are in shock. Would you like to go to the Hospital Wing?" He nearly winced at the harshness in his tone. He had always been bad at the sort of emotional thing that came with being around women, and this was a situation for which he had no prescribed script.

She shook her head.

_Well, at least she's responsive._ "Have a seat," he told her, gesturing at the bed. She nodded at him, then tried to take a step. Her denims were still securely round her ankles, and she tumbled, saved from hitting her head on the floor by Severus' quick grab at her arm. Wordlessly he helped her remove her shoes and tug off her jeans, then settled her in the bed. He'd need to wash those sheets later.

He left her there as he went to his storage cabinet to retrieve what he would need. A Calming Draught for her nerves, a Pepper-Up for the exposure she'd gotten, soothing liniment for her bruises, and some chocolate for her spirit. Easy enough.

He administered the first two potions without looking at her body. His eyes centered somewhere above her head as he handed them to her. She held the vials for a moment, and he had to tell her what they were and why she had to have them before she would take them. Part of him was frustrated at her inability to just take what he handed her with obedience, but a more rational corner of his mind noted that she was careful, distrustful, as well she should be.

Once she had downed the Calming Draught and Pepper-Up Potion, he handed her the chunk of chocolate.

"Eat." Obediently she took a bite and he nodded. She was beginning to come out of her shock. Unfortunately, that would mean a lot of questions for him, but that was better than a comatose student sitting in his bed.

He looked over he body now, carefully forcing his eyes to skim over the more private bits of her and focus on the bruises on her stomach and arms.

"You'll have to lie down."

Her eyes jerked up at him sharply, and he saw her first coherent question there. _Why? _With a hint of fear in it, as well, as if…

"Nothing like that, Miss Granger. I merely need to treat the bruises," he told her in as soft a voice as he could manage. Fortunately, she understood and lay down—on her stomach. Severus opened his mouth to correct her, but couldn't when he saw what they had done to her.

Dolohov's slashing curse was horrible. His control over it was so minute that he could cut through a single layer of skin with it. He had cut through all but one layer of Gran- Miss Granger's skin, and let the stone floor underneath her do the rest of the work, tearing it open and letting her bleed with dust and dirt grinding in to the incisions.

Severus knew that those cuts must've been finalized by his actions—his command to struggle, and the weight of his larger body pushing and pulling hers across the floor with every thrust.

There was no time now to feel sorry though. He cast a quick cleansing spell to get rid of the extraneous blood and dirt, and found that there was a criss-crossing pattern etching on the pale, once-smooth back. When he stood back and let his eyes take in the whole thing, he could make out the letters 'LV'S'. Lord Voldemort's. They had been planning on making a gift of her once they'd had their fun.

He felt a rush of relief run through him. She would have been able to bring down the entirety of Dumbledore's side with the information she was privy to, and Lord Voldemort would have gotten it out of her in a matter of days, if that long.

"I'll have to go get a different salve," he told her neutrally. His voice didn't betray him, and she couldn't see his face, thank Merlin. He was trying to maintain a level of professionalism at this point, though how professional one could manage to be after raping a student in front of one's evil colleagues was definitely up for debate.

When he returned, she hadn't moved. Hesitantly he dipped his fingers in the little pot of salve and put them to the very smallest cut at the top of her neck. He felt it mending under his fingers, the skin remolding itself under the slightest of pressure. He stopped moving suddenly at the thought that this might be a form of absolution for him.

_There is no absolution for what I've done. Merely forgiveness, should it be given—and it will not._ Satisfied with this thought, he put his hands back to the wounds and continued. He covered her whole back, every inch, as quickly as he could. She never needed to see what had been written there. There were a few cuts at the end that had been there long enough to scar, but not enough for her to make out that they had ever said anything.

"Don't move for a few minutes. The skin will still be tender." His instructions met deaf ears, though. With one look, he saw that she had fallen asleep. "Honestly, Miss Granger, I thought you had sense. Falling asleep in the bed of your rapist, it's completely unheard of." And yet, a part of him was glad she felt safe enough to do so. It meant she might not….

What might she do, anyway? She had more sense than to press charges when he was the only spy they had against Voldemort. He didn't care if she hated him forever. Effectually, she couldn't do anything to him. Yet, he was glad she trusted him.

He really wanted to climb into bed as well, or go to sleep on the couch. It had been a long day, what with classes—Granger had been in classes too, how had they gotten to her? —and then dinner followed by a meeting with Dumbledore that had made him late for his Death Eater revelry. And all the events that followed, of course. It was ten o'clock now, and with his normally reserved schedule he would have been in bed at 9:30, with a brief wake in the wee hours of the morning for hallway patrolling.

He had a feeling that he wouldn't be sleeping at all tonight.

Quickly he penned a note explaining where he was going and set it beside the sleeping girl's head on the pillow. Couldn't have her waking up and wandering back to Gryffindor tower, the state she was in. Then he strode out of the room and began the ever-long trek to Dumbledore's office, cursing the old fool once again for not installing any direct access from the dungeons.

Fortunately, even though Dumbledore was a silly old man, he had a fantastic sense for what was going on in his castle, and he met Severus halfway, just outside the Great Hall. Severus privately thought of it as his Secret Headmaster Sense.

"Severus, my boy, how did everything go tonight?" Dumbledore started out genially.

Severus just looked at him for a moment before whispering hurriedly, "Not here. My…" Not his quarters yet. "My classroom."

Once they were safely in the quiet, dim room, Severus locked the door. Then he cast a Silencing charm. And an extra one, just to be safe. Some of his Slytherins were, after all, quite resourceful.

Dumbledore looked rather amused. "What's wrong, Severus?"

Severus regarded him carefully. "Do you know Miss Granger's whereabouts this evening, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "I assume she has been safely hidden away in Gryffindor tower all night, studying. You know how she is about her studies, Severus, always desperate to prove herself. She should be just about ready to go to bed right now, though, and I'd imagine she's giving one of her rather impressive lectures about the importance of schoolwork to her rather less dedicated classmates. She learned some of her inflections from you, did you know?"

He was rambling, and Severus seized the chance to stop him. "She is in fact already in bed, Headmaster. _My_ bed." He proceeded to explain in loose detail the events of the evening, in as even a tone as he could manage. He thought it was rather an accomplishment for a man who had been… doing what he had been, an hour before… that his voice did not crack.

Dumbledore's eyes widened more than once during the course of Severus' tale.

"Severus, she must see… but no, we can't have too many people knowing…you said you treated her?"

"Yes sir."

"I think it would be best if you continue to do so." His eyes were doing that twinkling thing that they did when he was doing something he was sure was unexpected, and also sure would turn out well in the end.

"Headmaster, I'm not sure that that's entirely appropriate," Severus said pointedly.

"I'll be down first time in the morning to check on you." Yes. There was definitely twinkling happening.

"Sir, I…" But Dumbledore was already headed out the door.


	3. In Which Severus is a Prude

AN: So, apparently I've decided that I will be updating on Thursdays. We'll see how that goes a few weeks from now-- I've just started my senior year at college and my writing is very slow because of a lot of other commitments. I am currently working on chapter seven though, so... hopefully I won't fall behind!

Granger—Miss Granger—was asleep in his bed. Severus was having a hard time wrapping his mind around it. A student in his bed! It was unthinkable. Then again, so was everything that had happened in the last few hours.

He went through the motions of getting ready to go to sleep feeling like a robot. He was watching himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth and splashed water on his face as if it were one of those Muggle telly things, and he was watching someone else with his face. His mind wasn't on it at all. It was on the girl in his bed.

She was a student! A student! His mind wouldn't let it go. This was the sort of thing he would have been sacked for if she had been willing, and the consequences should by rights be far worse since she had not been.

A student! Not even of age yet. He shook his head and pulled some blankets out of his closet. He would be on the couch tonight.

And he was on the couch—for all of about thirty minutes. Then he was up again, pacing in front of the smoldering fireplace. _A student! A student!_ And not just any student, the best student in the sixth year. He should have been giving her back papers with scathing remarks for her ever-perfect grades, not healing the cuts and bruises he'd put on her body.

Guilt wasn't going to help him though, so he pushed it away, roughly. He had to deal with this, and burdening himself over it wasn't going to help. He knew that, and so he forced it out of his mind.

Lying back down to sleep didn't help. As soon as he cleared his mind of everything else, the guilt came back full force, complete with visualizations. Memories, really, still new. He hadn't realized that he'd noticed the look on her face, but he remembered it.

It was rapidly making its way into his collection of Worst Memories Ever, number one being tied between the damning twinkle in Dumbledore's eye when he was about to make Severus do something that he didn't want to do, and the similar glint in Voldemort's eye when he was about to do the same thing. Her eyes widened with fear, her expression slack, her mouth open and making small noises that he couldn't quite understand. Tears on her face, which he now knew were tears of pain from the damage to her back. It wasn't pleasant, especially combined with the memory of sniggers coming from behind him as other Death Eaters took their own pleasure from the sight.

He was awake the rest of the night.

He was pacing the Great Hall when the sun started to rise. He met it with a sense of annoyance—pacing was much better in the dark. Then he headed back down to the dungeons, hoping that Gr—Miss Granger would be awake. He wouldn't wake her, but she had to awaken soon. They both had classes that day, and her housemates would be missing her soon, if they weren't already.

He still couldn't figure out what had happened to get her were she was. His colleagues, at least the ones in the general area, were not all that smart. They certainly couldn't have gotten her from Hogwarts. But there had been one… a young voice, disguised so that he didn't recognize it, but it had sounded intelligent, and smooth, persuasive. He was worried about that. Youth meant passion among the Death Eaters. It meant there was someone who probably still thought that all Muggles should die, and that the Mudbloods were worthless. None of the older Death Eaters did much about their convictions any more—they were tired, and Voldemort was, quite frankly, a little insane. Everyone saw it, but they couldn't leave, so they went along with everything. They still had their beliefs, but they were burnt out.

This young man would not be burnt out. And there were probably more. How had Severus missed this? Were there new recruits being trained in secret, initiation ceremonies going on secretly? Or was it just this one? Was he young enough to still be in school? He didn't know, and that was worrying. He was a spy; it was his job to know. He needed to talk to Dumbledore about it, and he wasn't looking forward to it. He cursed himself for not attempting Legilimency on the newcomer, though he had been understandably distracted.

Miss Granger was stirring in his bed when he returned. Quickly he went to the bedside, checking to be sure the potions and liniments he had put there the night before were still at hand. They were. _As if they would have gone anywhere. I'm losing my touch._ Severus did not make a habit of checking behind himself. He did things right the first time and was self-assured enough not to fret over them.

He was fretting now. Any moment now those brown eyes would open and they would be terrified, just like the night before, and she would try to run. The image of her running through the corridors of Hogwarts, still naked and bruised, went through his mind. Then she opened her eyes.

"Professor?" she asked sleepily, and he relaxed. The Calming Draught he had administered was still affecting her, of course. He had known how strong it was, but hadn't taken into account her slight body. Of course it would affect her far longer than affected him.

_Use your brain, you idiot, _he told himself.

"Yes, Miss Granger. How are you feeling?" How are you feeling? He hadn't ever said those words to anyone before in his life that he could remember. He didn't know what possessed him to do so now.

"'M sleepy. And stiff. And… sore. Sorry, 'm alliterative as well."

Severus tried not to smirk in amusement. It didn't work. Granger, even drugged and probably emotionally disturbed, was still Granger.

"I can't do anything about the fatigue," he told her. "I can, however, give you some liniment to put on your muscles and bruises to help with the stiffness. Use it only on broad body areas though, and your limbs. Not on any of the more sensitive private areas, or your face." It was a good thing he didn't blush easily. "I'll get something else from Madam Pomfrey for that, or I can brew it myself if you'd like."

Her eyes met his and she said fiercely. "You do it. No one else should know."

He nodded, surprised at her sudden show of… strength? Determination, perhaps, was the word for it.

She sat up and he told her where the bathroom was. When she didn't move for a moment, he looked at her quizzically.

"Clothes?" she asked. "Or… I suppose you've seen me naked, but I will have to have some eventually. Get me some while I wash up?"

With that she was out of the bed and walking across the room. Severus' eyes found the floor and stuck to it. Once the door shut behind her he sighed and sat down on the bed. _I really am a prude. _


End file.
